Beddy Byes
by AerrowLover
Summary: ."Go to sleep, go to sleep. Go to sleep little Damon..." A three-parter in which Damon Baird realises why he needs a good nights' sleep - Marcus Fenix won't always be there to save him.
1. Projections

**Author Rambles: Greetings my lovies! Thank you all ever so much for the feedback for 'Caged'! I was very smiley for ages afterwards, and still am guys. Thank you all again. You've made a girl very happy.**** Go raibh maith agat!**

**This is the second for my dear Sardonic Request. Blame her for getting me totally obsessed. :L**

**Set after the book, Jacinto's Remnant, and slightly AU.**

**Warning: Contains swearing – blame Baird and Marcus, and injury-related gore. Yum.  
****Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Gears of War. Not even a little Lancer or a tiny grenade. It's sad, but what can you do.**

**

* * *

**

**Beddy Byes  
**_In which Damon Baird realises why he needs a good nights' sleep - Marcus won't always be there to save him._

* * *

"Ow! Go away!"

"Shut up, Baird!"

"Will you stop bloody poking me! That fucking _hurts_!"

"I'll make it hurt more if you don't shut the fuck up and let me work!"

Marcus Fenix supposed that his latest threat worked, because his unwilling patient mutinously shut his mouth. Oh, he threw him such a glare as he did so, but he did shut his mouth. Forcing himself to keep his cool, Marcus surveyed the damage before him.

It had meant to be such an easy task. Something that they could do without even thinking about it. Hoffman had been ordered by Prescott to step up the amount of patrols taking place, especially at night. Too many raids by Stranded were making the civvies worried, he had claimed during a meeting. It would look good if more Gears were seen out doing their job, and being generally reassuring. And all that shit. Anyway, everyone had been then forced to pull their weight, and that was how he and Baird had been sent out tonight. Normally, of course, it would have been himself and Dom, and Baird would have been with Cole, but they had been pulled to monitor the stores.

To say that he hadn't been thrilled with the pairing was an understatement. But hell, he had put up with the blonde for a long time now, and had a huge knowledge base in pressing his buttons. He could cope with what was thrown at him. Dom usually commented that Marcus had the patience of a Saint when it came to dealing with Baird. Personally Marcus believed that a whole Heaven full of the halo-wearing bastards would find it tricky coping with the man. Yet he _had_ gotten used to him; knew how to retort to his comments. But that didn't mean that Marcus Fenix wanted to spend several hours of his time doing patrol with the annoying smartass.

* * *

"_Oh, great. I'm with you tonight?" The blonde asked grumpily,__ rubbing a hand over his eyes, trying to fight a battle with exhaustion._

"_Apparently so." Marcus replied, slinging his Lancer over his shoulder in one fluid movement. He looked around at the deserted shacks nearest them, before starting to walk. He wasn't fully focused on the task ahead. He was still thinking about Dom. The man whom he regarded as his brother had had another bad day, and Marcus wished that he could be with him now. _

_Granted, he wasn't good with sympathy and all that shit, but he knew that Dom just needed to have his one remaining family member near him sometimes. Yet here he was, on patrol at this godforsaken hour with Baird. Who had just been pulled from the latest ship the navy had him working on. And a tired Baird means a cranky Baird. Which means he'll be bitching all night long, Marcus thought with an inward sigh._

"_What a bloody good plan this was. More patrols. Less sleep. Oh, Prescott. You big genius." _

_So he got a ten out of ten for predictions, Marcus thought wearily. And the night had only just begun._

"_Baird, he did what he had to do. Would you rather have the civvies bitch, and then run off?" He said, looking at the younger man now beside him. He didn't like Prescott as a rule either, but he had to conclude that this time the man had done the only thing possible. Too many people were frightened and complaining, and already a group had left to join the Stranded. Why join those who steal from you, Marcus had no idea, but apparently those who had absconded were operating under the, 'if you can't beat 'em, join 'em' theory. Upping the amount of patrols so far seemed to have worked, so Marcus grudgingly had to give the thumbs up to the Chairman. For now, anyway. It was something Baird would have to get, however. For one so smart – and he was smart – Baird surely did lack in common sense from time to time._

_The younger man shrugged, breaking into a yawn. He too looked at the shacks that had become their home, shivering slightly as a fierce wind attacked him. Personally, he believed that those foolish enough to run out of this zone that offered shelter and protection in order to join up with the scum that robbed them deserved all that they got. But he didn't really care about them. As long as he was set up within life, then all was good in the world. His self-survival instinct was what had got him through fifteen years of hellish fighting. He'd be damned if he was to give it all up now. _

"_Whatever. The man is still a retard in my opinion." He muttered in reply, causing Marcus to roll his eyes. Yes, it was going to be one hell of a long night. And it had only just started at that. Wonderful._

_The two Gears continued walking until they were out of the hastily constructed settlement and heading towards Sector 12, which led into what had been christened, 'the Wilderness.' They stopped at the checkpoint, signed in and kept going until they were in the Sector._

"_Control, this is Patrol Four__ checking in. We've reached Sector Twelve, and about to do a sweep. So far, all's quiet. Over." Marcus kept his finger firmly pressed on his earpiece, waiting for Control to reply. Baird snorted at the sight. The day Marcus Fenix went for an hour without using the earpiece had yet to come. But he knew why Marcus liked tuning into the comms link so much. And she was replying right now._

"_Rodger that, Patrol Four__. This is Control. You are reminded that there is a high risk of Stranded attack in that area. Caution is required. Over." Anya's cool and clear voice sounded, before fading out. Baird spared a glance at this fearless leader, the beginnings of a smirk playing about his lips. He wondered whether to make a remark, but Marcus, who was used to this scenario, was already looking in his direction with his, 'shit is gonna go down' scowl. That made Baird snort again. When did Fenix not have that look on his face?_

"_We lost a man here last week." Marcus said, his gravelly voice breaking the silence that had fallen after Anya had closed the link. He briefly closed his eyes, remembering the face of the fallen Gear. He had only been a kid, really. Some kid who had thought that he was gonna be okay now that the war was over and the Grubs were gone. But it was not to be, not since a new enemy had emerged in their fellow humans. Marcus sighed, shaking his head. He still didn't understand how that had happened – men fighting men. He opened his eyes, the image of the kid still hovering before him. He forced himself to focus on Baird instead. "And we've had many more casualties besides. Stranded are armed and dangerous, so take them seriously. For once." He added as an afterthought, knowing full well how Baird thought about the Stranded. In response, the blonde rolled his eyes, and started walking ahead again. Every so often he would stop and stamp his feet, presumably in an attempt to warm up. _

_Marcus glanced around them before following the younger man. It was quiet and still, the only noise being their footsteps and a bitterly chilling wind that howled every once in a while. He tightened his hold on his trusted Lancer, his companion for so long. He checked it was fully loaded before walking. _

_No matter how clear the area looked, no matter how silent the place was – Marcus couldn't shake off this nagging feeling that something wasn't right. He stopped once more, peering through half-shut eyes. A lone wind howled, causing a few scattered trees to rustle. _

"_Oye, Fenix! Quite dragging your ass and get back here! I'm not gonna wait forever!" Marcus sighed, not even bothering to rise to the very clear verbal challenge that Baird was issuing him. Turning his back on the distance view of their base, he strove ahead until he was beside the blonde man, sighing again when he realised that Baird was still bitching._

"_Dragging your ass 'cause of late night activities, Fenix?" The blonde quipped, a smirk playing about on his lips. Marcus counted to ten in his head, fighting the urge to punch the younger man and wipe the said smirk off his face._

"_Cut the crap, Baird. We have a job to do." Was all he said in response as a frown was once again etched unto his forehead. _

* * *

"Fucking hell- " The silence was broken as a whine escaped from the blonde man, who screwed his eyes together shut.

"Look, will you hold _still_!" Marcus ordered with a growl, pressing his hands down on the younger man's shoulder, ignoring the cry of pain that erupted as he did so. He was too busy trying to halt – or at least slow – the bleeding, and Baird scuffling around certainly wasn't making his job any easier. Once again Marcus paused, looking at the bleeding wound. He knew what he had to do, but it was going to be nasty. And Baird wouldn't like it at all. He sighed. Better get this all over with.

"Baird, I'm goin' to have to find the bullet and pull it out." He said in his gravelly tones. He spared the blonde a glance, his sharp eyes taking in how pale the younger man had gotten. He still had his eyes shut, too.

"Fuck that shit. Fenix, just leave it. I'll be fine." Baird replied hastily, trying to ignore the unrelentless waves of pain that were attacking him so fiercely. He refused to let Marcus Fenix see him giving in to the pain, however. He would never be able to look the man in the face again. Baird didn't like anyone seeing him in a state such as this, and the fact that it was Fenix himself who was here right now was really killing him. He attempted once again to wriggle away, the action causing him to move his shoulder. He bit his lip furiously, refusing to cry out. "Just patch me up and I'll wait 'til we get back." Baird cracked open one eye to see a pissed off looking Marcus glaring at him. "Or, of course, I could let you screw around with my shoulder, 'cause you actually have a medical degree." He muttered, and the throbbing headache he was currently experiencing forced him to close his eye once more.

"Baird, I need to get it out. Once I get it out, I can patch you up and stop the bleeding. Otherwise, you'll kneel over with blood loss, and I ain't draggin' your sorry ass all the way back." Marcus retorted, keeping one hand on the wad of bloodstained bandages that were pressed on the blonde's injured shoulder, whilst with his other he tapped into his comm link.

"Control, this is Patrol Four. Control, come in, over." He waited, but it was clearly the same response as he had received last time – naught but fuzzy static ringing in his ears. Either his comm link had been damaged during the fighting, or even more simply there was a breakdown resulting in a lack of communications. It wouldn't be the first time it had happened. But right now it was more important to try and get into contact with Control and order an Evac team. If they had any time left in which to wait for the system to get fixed.

Marcus glanced down at his bloodstained hands. He looked down at the still-shuddering form of Damon Baird, and at the bundle of bloody bandages pressed down firmly on his injured left shoulder. The bundle that was steadily increasing.

Perhaps he _was_ going to have to haul Baird's sorry ass all the way back. Talk about self-fulfilling prophecies.

* * *

"_I hate snow. And I hate ice." Baird complained, forcing himself not to shiver from the cold. Marcus, the flipping mountain of muscle and man didn't seem to be half as cold as he was. _

"_So I've noticed." Marcus retorted dryly, watching Baird trying to pick his way through the latest patch of slippery ice. Trying, that is, and failing. Chuckling at the latest round of swearing that was being issued from the blonde's mouth, Marcus realised that perhaps tonight wasn't going to be all that bad. He was getting free entertainment at the expense of Baird, and who doesn't love that idea?_

"_I'm glad you find this all so amusing." Baird muttered furiously, wincing slightly as he went over again on his sore ankle. "Wait 'til you go down on your ass, and we'll see who'd be laughing." He cautiously tip-toed over a particularly shiny patch of ice, and to Marcus' disappointment stayed upright. Baird threw him a smirk. Marcus shrugged, not wanting to concede a victory to Baird so soon._

"_Still, it took you long enough." He said, and was rewarded when Baird glared at him instead. The effect of the glare was somewhat ruined as Baird had to break off to yawn. A faint, spidery smile crossed Marcus' lips for a brief moment. _

_They continued to walk on in silence, stopping to have a closer look around them on several occasions. There was a real drop in the temperature now, and Marcus watched as Baird kept trying to stay warm. He himself felt the cold, but he was used to it. During his time in the Slab, it was hardly the sunniest place around. But the biting winds weren't helping much either right now. _

_They were a good thirty minutes walk away from the checkpoint into Sector Twelve, and so far all was quiet. There was nothing to indicate that Stranded had been in the area, but… Marcus shook his head slowly as Baird stumbled on ahead. Something still just didn't seem all that right to him. He peered around at the mess of jumbled foliage to his right and left, and at the burnt out trucks in front of him. Perfect for cover and excellent for snipers if any were around. Marcus hated to even think it, but if there was a great location for a possible ambush, they were walking into it. He pressed his hand to his ear, tapping his earpiece. They were due a check in now, anyway._

"_Control? This is Patrol Four, over." Marcus waited for Anya to reply, and sure enough she did._

"_Patrol Four, this is Control. What's your status? Over." _

_Seeing Baird had stopped ahead and was looking at him irritably, Marcus supposed he better catch up. Jogging forward, he frowned at Baird, who responded by rolling his eyes. Marcus turned his back on the younger man, fighting the urge to throttle him._

"_Anya, we're good. This place is dead, but…" He paused, feeling Baird's gaze on him. "I don't know. It just seems_ too_ quiet. We're gonna go in further for a better look just to make sure."_

_Anya paused while she took in this latest batch of information. Marcus heard her clearing her throat. "Okay Marcus, but be careful. If you're right, you could be walking into a trap. You're cleared to use all force if necessary, I've been reminded to tell you." Marcus nodded to himself._

"_Wilco, Anya. I-"_

"_Marcus?" Anya interrupted suddenly._

"_Yeah?"_

_"We've already lost one man to these people. Please ensure that we don't lose another…" Anya's voice seemed to fade away, before it was back again and sounding much stronger. "Control out." The link went dead. Marcus dropped his hand slowly and turned around to face Baird, who was looking at him with a knowing smirk on his face. Marcus rolled his eyes. He had a vague idea what it was that Baird was considering saying._

"_So…Anya wants you to come back to her in one piece then, Fenix?" Baird remarked wryly, swinging his Lancer onto his shoulder in one fluid movement. He stared at the older and bigger man, a cocky smile playing about on his lips. "What?" He said, seeing the look that was being dished out to him. "Oh, was I not meant to hear all that? Well, I'm sorry Casanova, but your conversation over a comm link is heard by all who have them stuck in their ears. Like me. Moron." He snorted. Marcus' steely blue eyes narrowed. He turned his back on the younger man again and started walking ahead once more._

"_One of these days, Baird, I'm gonna send you flying like Bernie did." He growled, stomping ahead. He remembered that time and faintly smiled. He also knew Baird hated being reminded about it – after all, an old lady about twice his age had floored him with a single punch. Behind him, Baird snorted again._

"_Yeah yeah, Fenix." He said dismissively. "And one of these days you and Anya will actually get it on." He paused, a smatter of laughter escaping him. "Oh wait, was that a pig that flew over the horizon?" _

"_Baird, shut the hell up." Marcus growled again, forcing himself to stay calm. Losing his cool with Baird right now was not something that would help with their current problem. Not to mention it would make a hell of a lot of noise, which would easily give away their position. Hell, they had made enough noise already. A sniper could have them both in his sight now._

"_Or what, O Fearless One? You'll talk to me, like lovers do?" Baird retorted, smirking. He paused, and started to mimic Marcus' gravelly tones. "You gonna hold me, squeeze me, say you always need me?" He glanced at Marcus while adjusting his goggles with one of his hands. He resumed his normal voice. "Oh, sorry. I forgot that you're Anya's man. No problemo." He sniggered. It was always so much fun, pushing Fenix's buttons. Granted, the man was emotionally retarded, and rarely would respond to anything. And he had a lot of patience, Baird concluded, but still. Once you found that certain something that got him rolling – Anya, for example – then it was priceless and classic entertainment. It almost made up for the fact that he was exhausted and having to patrol at night in fucking freezing weather._

_Marcus had stopped, and slowly turned around. His blue eyes were blazing, and his fists were suddenly clenched. Baird grinned. Oh yes. He was definitely getting him all riled up tonight._

"_Will you shut the fuck up, Baird?" The older man's voice was dangerously low._

"_Aw, I'm sorry. Did I hurt your widdle feelings, widdle Marcus?" Baird replied, looking Marcus right in the eye. He wasn't backing down from this. It was too much fun, now that he had started. He yawned, not even bothering to cover his mouth this time._

_Marcus sighed, telling himself that shooting Baird right now was not the answer. He looked around. They were stuck right out in the open now, surrounded by foliage. Everything was quiet, too quiet. He could feel the adrenaline already starting to flow through him, due to years and years of situations like this. He dropped his voice to a low whisper._

"_Baird, shut up. Weren't you listening at all to what I was saying to Control?" He mentally congratulated himself on not mentioning Anya. That would have only encouraged the blonde, he thought._

"_Oh yeah. Something about it being too quiet." The blonde shrugged dismissively. "I'm not complaining if we don't see any action tonight, Fenix." His blue eyes lit up suddenly. "Of course, you and Anya on the other hand…"_

_Marcus rolled his eyes. Seriously, how could a genius like Baird be so slow? He shook his head. "No, you moron. Can't you feel it? Doesn't something seem off to you?"_

_Baird looked around him, before looking back to Marcus. He looked momentarily confused, before switching quickly to annoyed. "Uh, no? Man, I think you're too frigging paranoid now. There's nothing out here, 'sides from us." He yawned heavily, having to rub his eyes to keep them open. Something that didn't escape Marcus' attention._

"_Aw shit, Baird. How many hours sleep did you get last night? And the night before?" Marcus asked furiously. __Everything seemed to fall into place._

_Baird peered out from under half-closed eyes. "I dunno. Navy kept me out later than planned, and then Hoffman dragged me off to look at a disc – Uh, something." He said quickly. "I still got sleep!" He said defensively, tucking his arms around his sides. "Why do you care, Fenix?"_

_Marcus shook his head. "You've been bloody burning the candle at both bloody ends, you idiot. And it's finally catching up with you. You haven't been focused at all during this patrol, have you?" He shook his head again in exasperation. No wonder Baird hadn't a clue about what was going on. Normally he would have been alert, and would have noticed that something seemed up. But he was exhausted, and hadn't been paying attention. Marcus once more fought the urge to throttle the younger man._

"_Sorry, mom. Didn't know you cared." Baird sounded sulky, and had to break off to yawn again._

"_Cut the crap. Get behind me and just don't do anything stupid. When we get back, you're gonna go straight to bed." Marcus ordered, realising how like a mother he sounded. Judging by the faint smirk on Baird's face, he had reached the same conclusion._

"_Oh, am I grounded?" He asked, to which Marcus refused to reply. Rolling his eyes, the blonde was making his way forward when there was a cracking noise coming from their right. Marcus spun around, gesturing to Baird to get behind him quicker. The blonde rolled his eyes._

"_It's nothing, man. For crying out loud…" His voice trailed away when he saw the look on Marcus' face. He found himself yawning again._

"_Shut the hell up." Marcus whispered furiously. "Somebody is out there, and we need to get to cover. Stay low, and stay behind me." He ducked, and cautiously made his way towards the nearest burnt out shell of a truck. He looked behind him to see that the blonde man was still standing. He swore violently under his breath. _

"_Get your ass into some cover!" He whispered harshly. "What are you, a fucking rook?"_

"_Alright, alright." Baird yawned, "Whatever you say, mom-"_

_There was a loud shot, a cry, and suddenly Baird was on the ground._

* * *

**DUN DUN DUN.**

**How dramatic. D:  
Well my little darlings, if you like so far, please could you let me know? Constructive crit is welcome as always. **


	2. Doctor in the House

**Author Rambles: Greetings my lovies! Thank you all ever so much for the feedback! ****I wasn't too sure how this would go down but thank you all for all the kind words. You've made a girl very happy. Go raibh maith agat!**

**Warning: Contains swearing – blame Baird and Marcus, and injury-related gore. Yum.**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Gears of War. Not even a little Lancer or a tiny grenade. It's sad, but what can you do.**

**

* * *

****Beddy Byes**

_In which Damon Baird realises why he needs a good night's sleep – Marcus won't always be there to save him._

_

* * *

_"Fucking…Hell…!"

"Just stay still. This is going to hurt like a bitch, but I'll be as quick as I can!"

"Is that…What you said to Anya …Last night?" Baird snickered feebly, gasping again for breath. Even though he had been shot in his shoulder, it still hurt like hell every time he breathed in, his ribs protesting as well as his injured shoulder. Marcus told himself not to lose his temper with an injured man, but damn, it sure wasn't easy.

The blonde whimpered, struggling weakly as Marcus prised the wad of bloodstained bandages off and immediately clamped his hand on the profusely bleeding wound. He glanced at the younger man.

"You ready?"

Baird shut his eyes again. "Just do it…Already." Marcus smiled grimly. He had done this procedure too many times, more than he wanted to recall. It had also been performed on him. Not for the first time did he wish that all Gears could carry morphine in their medi-kits, but since the miraculous drug was now in limited supply and in huge demand in the hospital, Gears no longer had the luxury of injecting either themselves or their squad mates with the drug. It meant more hellish pain to deal with, and Marcus knew from experience that what he was going to do hurt more than most.

"Alright. This will hurt." He warned again, and before Baird could say anything in reply Marcus stuck a finger into the open wound and began to dig around for the bullet. At this fresh onslaught of pain, Baird lost the battle to stay quiet and cried out. The agony and the sheer panic made him lash around weakly. Marcus took no notice, and instead pressed most of his body weight on the blonde, making it harder for him to move. He needed the younger man to stay as still as possible; it would make hunting for the bullet easier and hopefully quicker. But it still was a nasty son of a bitch, this little bullet.

"Shit." Marcus muttered, feeling his hands begin to slip around the bloody shoulder. The bullet had gone in further that he had expected. He pushed his thumb into the bleeding wound to aid his finger, and resumed the search. Every so often he would check the blonde to see how he was doing. He had grown paler if that had been possible, and his breathing was strained. Marcus knew he had to hurry up. He didn't want Baird to go into shock on him.

"Come on, you little bastard. Come out to play…" Marcus growled furiously, as he had to delve even deeper into the shoulder. He glanced at the younger man again, who appeared to have slipped into unconsciousness. He hoped so – it meant he wouldn't have to experience any more pain - but Marcus decided to check anyway. Better safe than sorry, after all. So it was with surprising gentleness that Marcus shook Baird's other – uninjured - shoulder.

"Baird? You good?" He asked, watching as Baird's eyes began to lightly flutter and open. He peered at Marcus groggily, but his face was taut with pain.

"Course I'm…Good. Fucking brilliant…" He muttered, his voice alarmingly faint to Marcus' ears. The older man looked at his unwilling patient, a drop of sympathy present in those fathomless blue eyes.

"Just hang in there. I'm almost done." The lie left his mouth with unexpected ease. He was no where near being done – he hadn't even found the bullet yet, let alone gotten in out. But he knew from countless years' worth of battles and dishing out emergency aid that it as always better to lie and say everything was okay to your fallen comrade.

Even if it always wasn't.

* * *

"_Baird!" Marcus called out, slinging his Lancer off his shoulder and getting ready to aim. He spared his fallen solider a glance. Baird was lying on the ground, swearing violently and clutching his left shoulder with both hands. His gun was lying a few feet away from him. In other words, he was currently defenceless. Sighing, Marcus slowly edged his way towards the younger man, all the time keeping his eyes peeled for that elusive sniper. Well, that was what he assumed had fired on them. _

_The silence had returned to the clearing after the initial shot had been fired. Marcus guessed that the plan was to try and lure him out from his cover and into the open and then have a shoot out. He guessed that they had shot Baird knowing that he, the Sergeant would be forced to leave cover to help him. Marcus frowned, a few choice words leaving his mouth. So far he could see nothing, but as it had just recently been proved, that didn't mean that nothing was out there. His icy blue eyes narrowed in concentration as he crept alongside the burnt out truck. His hold tightened on his Lancer. He could fire a few shots into the foliage to get them moving, hopefully giving him enough time to get to Baird and drag his idiotic ass into cover._

"_Baird!" He hissed, watching as the blonde scrabbled for his gun. "Keep your head down! There's a sniper out there!" Even getting shot however didn't seem to render the blonde's attitude obsolete in any way, because he rolled his eyes at his leader's suggestion._

"_No shit." He hissed back, gun now in hand. Now it was Marcus' turn to roll his eyes as he watched Baird slowly try to crawl towards him and cover. The younger man was using his right arm to drag himself along the ground, while his left arm hung limply at his side. He had only a few more feet to go when there was a hail of shots fired. Marcus swore, rolled out of his cover and began to fire back. _

"_Get behind me you dumbass!" He roared to Baird over the noise of the fire fight. Baird managed to aim with his gun and fired several shots in front of him to act as a distraction whilst he neatly rolled over into the safety of cover. Marcus ducked as several bullets whizzed over his head and shoulders, before taking careful aim and firing. A cry from deep in the foliage told him he had reached his target, making him smile grimly. He fired a few more times, before ducking to reload. Several shots rang out over his head, before another deathly silence fell in the clearing._

_Marcus slid a new round into his gun, before turning to face the blonde hunched beside him. Baird had dropped his gun at his side and was wincing in apparent pain. Marcus was tempted to mutter something along the lines of, 'I told you so' but decided against it. It wasn't right to say something like that. Well, not yet, anyway. Once he had checked out Baird's injury he maybe would. But first he had to alert Control. He pressed his hand to his earpiece._

"_Control? This is Patrol Four. Do you copy?" He barked, hearing only static. "Control, we have engaged with what we assume is hostile Stranded. Requesting an Evac team asap. Do you copy? Control?" Marcus dropped his hand with a frustrated sigh. "Damnit!" He looked at Baird who shook his head._

"_Their transmissions could be down. Or it's your earpiece. I'd try mine, but…" His voice trailed away as he pointed at a little black lump on the ground beside him, "It kinda got broken out there." _

"_Not the only thing that did." Marcus said dryly. "Let me see your shoulder." His gaze dropped to the injured shoulder in question. He swore when he saw the patch of spreading blood on Baird's clothing. "Shit, you're bleeding." His eyes narrowed, looking closer at the wound._

"_Wow, thank you for that wonderful medical observation, Doctor Fenix." Baird replied sarcastically. "You're really wasted in your current profession." Marcus told himself to count to ten and remember to breathe deeply._

"_Even when you're shot you have a mouth on you, Baird." He said, peering around for any signs of upcoming activity. It was still quiet – he assumed that the Stranded were giving medical attention to their own injured comrade. Marcus decided to do the same. He reached forward; grasping Baird's left shoulder in his powerful hands, ignoring the wince of pain that escaped the younger man's mouth. He tore open Baird's combat vest to see that his shoulder was beginning to bleed heavily. Marcus swore again._

"_Next time, when I tell you to get into cover, you get your ass into cover." He ordered, digging around in his medi-kit for a handful of bandages. "You just stood there, you moron. Not even rooks do that!" He firmly pressed a few of the bandages on top of the bleeding wound, while Baird bit his lip just as firmly in order to prevent himself from crying out. Like hell would he let Fenix see him in pain. His shoulder was beginning to throb unbearably and his good doctor really wasn't helping matters._

"_How many do you think are out there?" He asked the older man, determined to change the topic from his fuck-up minutes before. Marcus knew fine rightly what Baird was up to, but decided that there would be plenty of time after they got out of here for him to pull Baird up on his conduct._

"_I don't know. I'm guessin' around four or so; only that amount could all hide behind the trees and bushes over there. Any more and we'd have seen them." Marcus removed his hands from the wad of bandages. "Hold them there. I'll put on a few more in a minute." He ordered, before picking up his Lancer and carefully looking over the truck. So he didn't see Baird pulling a face at his back as he held the bandages in place. Instead he caught a tiny glimpse of a man moving through a gap in the bushes, and his eyes narrowed. Marcus carefully took aim, and pulled the trigger. There was no scream this time as the man just slumped over, blood pooling around him from a bullet to the head. Marcus turned to face Baird._

"_Make that three now." He said chuckling. Baird rolled his eyes, and reached for his gun. Marcus put his foot on the weapon before Baird could reach it. "What do you think you're doing? Do you want to bleed out?"_

"_I'm not just gonna sit on my ass here while you wax lyrical about your kills, Caveman." Baird scowled, withdrawing his arm with a barely-concealed whimper. Marcus was about to tell him in no uncertain terms that he was to sit back and do fuck all when a relentless hail of bullets were fired from ahead. Marcus ducked his head quickly, but one still grazed the side of his face. Many more began to bounce with a pinging noise of the side of the metal truck._

"_Go get them, tiger." Baird muttered dryly over the sound of the firing and Marcus didn't even bother to reply. He edged his way to the front of the truck, firing in retaliation every so often. He decided his best means to get at the Stranded was to try to lure them out. But how? Then an idea struck. Reaching around his waist, he carefully plucked a single grenade from where he had had it clipped and held it out in front of him. _

_Oh, yes. This would work._

_

* * *

_Marcus was still searching for the bullet that had prised and hidden itself in the shoulder of one Damon Baird. He forced his fingers to dig around a little deeper, and ignored the faint whimper that was coming from the injured blonde. Marcus knew he had to hurry. This bullet was lodged deeper than what he had expected, and was doing more damage too. The sooner he could pull it out and stop the bleeding the better. He spared a glance at the blonde.

"Baird, hang in there." The younger man stirred faintly, his eyes briefly opening before closing again. He tried to move away but Marcus placed his other hand upon Baird's other uninjured shoulder, gently but firmly holding him in place. He understood what was happening – whenever a man was in a shitload of pain, eventually he will act on naught but instinct. And instinct was telling Baird that Marcus was causing him more pain than what he could cope with. And that the thing to do was to simply get away from the source of the agony. Marcus remembered with a frown a time when it had happened to him. He shook his head. Not fond memories. Looking at Baird again, he realised he had to hurry. He began to hunt around again. There was another whimper.

Marcus didn't think he could ever get used to hearing something like that leave Baird's lips. He had never thought he would see Baird so… Vulnerable.

"Nearly done."

"…Said that…Five minutes ago…" Marcus looked down to see Baird looking at him blearily; _accusingly_. He had to crack the smallest of smiles.

"Sorry. Didn't know I had to keep to your schedule." He muttered dryly. Baird snorted weakly, wriggling around once more and hissing. He looked at Marcus, his own blue eyes looking a tad unfocused.

"How bad?" He asked. Either Baird decided to keep being as blunt as he normally was, or he didn't have enough strength to form long and coherent sentences. Marcus didn't know which it was, but decided not to answer. He had a job to do, anyway.

Blood was all over Baird's neck and shoulder and was trickling down his chest now. Marcus really hoped Baird wouldn't pass out on him. He didn't want to drag his ass around.

* * *

_Ducking to avoid a particularly close call with one of the metal bastards flying at him, Marcus started to swing the grenade. Faster and faster.__ He kept swinging the weapon as he left his cover and eventually released it, watching its journey in front of him. Marcus was rolling neatly back into his cover when the grenade went off with a deafening boom along with mingled screams that seemed to shatter the whole area surrounding them. There was silence._

"_Did you get them all?" Baird whispered harshly, risking a quick peep over the truck. He couldn't see any movement; all was still once more behind the foliage. He looked at his squad leader, his blue eyes narrowing. "You're bleeding now, Fenix."_

_Marcus raised a hand to pat the side of his face and saw that it did indeed come away lightly spattered with blood drops. He shrugged, deciding the cut was nothing to be concerned with. He too peered ahead, fingers tightening on his Lancer._

"_I think I got them all. But I'm gonna make a sweep to be sure." He grumbled in reply to the younger man. He looked Baird up and down while he reloaded quickly._

"_You doin' okay there?" _

_Baird snorted, awkwardly shuffling around to get into a more comfortable position. He was never going to live this one down. He had gotten himself shot by a Stranded and Fenix had had to save his ass. He hadn't been able to fight back, meaning Marcus had gotten to do all the fun. And his shoulder was starting to friggin' hurt. Fenix was never going to let him forget this. _

"_I'm doing just fine, Doc." He muttered sarcastically, wincing slightly as the pain coursing through his injured shoulder moved up the meter by one. Marcus stared at him for another second in that creepy way he had, the one where he seemed to see all and know all, but did not actually say anything. Baird met his gaze, but then dropped his head. Which, incidentally, was also killing him. _

_He was so mad at himself. _

_Marcus dipped a brief nod to the younger man before sprinting from the burnt out truck to a large mound of dirt, all the time keeping his eyes peeled for any possible signs of Stranded. His sharp eyes and hearing felt on edge, and seeing that so far the area was clear, he sprinted ahead to the remains of what had been the cover of the Stranded. The smoke had cleared to reveal a crater in which a bloody body lay inside. Another body was to be found near Marcus' right. _

_He spared a glance around him. From what Marcus could see, their attackers had been killed care of his grenade. He was about to turn around and run back when he heard a low murmur. Marcus' eyes narrowed. Apparently one of them had survived. _

_Moving quietly forward – he didn't want to let the lone Stranded hear his coming and perhaps arm himself – Marcus peered forward and discovered a young man lying down, bloody and gasping. Death was already upon him, Marcus decided. There was no need to view him as a potential threat. He lowered his Lancer, but only by a few inches. Marcus was nothing if not constantly alert. The Stranded was tossing and turning as he struggled to breath and it was as he turned his head that he caught sight of the battle-hardened veteran. His eyes widened, but soon formed a faint yet murderous glare._

"_You…You…Bastard…" The words were gasped and mauled by the rivets of blood pouring from the young man's mouth. "You…Killed…Them-"_

"_You attacked us. Injured one of my men." Marcus cut the young Stranded off with ease, his blue eyes stormy. "You killed a Gear last week, you and your friends. And you call me a bastard." He finished dryly, crouching down low to be face-to-face with the dying Stranded. He could not feel any pity for this man, how could he? Men fighting fellow men when they should be banding together to ensure humanity's survival…Marcus found himself shaking his head slowly, his icy eyes never leaving the Stranded's pale face._

"_You lot…Filthy…Treat us like animals…We were…Right to try…To kill you…" The man began to choke violently on his own blood. Marcus remained stony-faced and impassive. _

"_I hope…You go…To Hell!" The Stranded moaned angrily, struggling desperately to breathe. More blood poured from his mouth. Marcus merely rolled his eyes and with a single and fluid movement raised his Lancer and fired. _

"_I'll see you there." Marcus rumbled, standing up and turning his back on the now-silent Stranded. A shot to the head does that to a person._

_Marcus sprinted back to the burnt-out truck, all the time on the lookout for any more hidden Stranded. He really must have killed them all now, for there were no shots as he ran. He eventually reached his cover and crouched down to face Baird._

"_Ah, the Master Hunter returns." The younger man smirked, his hand still prised firmly to his shoulder. It didn't escape Marcus' notice that the younger man was paler and shakier that what he had been several moments before. His eyes narrowed._

"_Let me see your shoulder." He said, and seeing that Baird opened his mouth, ready and willing to protest as always, he glared. "That's an order, Baird." Baird rolled his eyes but allowed Marcus to move over and take command. _

_Marcus removed the mess of bandages he had pressed on the bleeding wound and was greeted with more blood. He swore and began to examine the injury, causing Baird wriggle and protest loudly._

"_Ow! Go away!"_

"_Shut up, Baird!" Marcus muttered in reply. In a sense, he thought, Baird really did deserve to get shot. The asshole had been such a moron out there it had been unbelievable. Call it Karma, just deserts – whatever you wanted, but it was still there._

"_Will you stop poking me! That fucking hurts!" Baird found himself whining as his pain meter started to rise yet again. He bit his lip furiously, holding in the moans that had already formed in his throat._

"_I'll make it hurt more if you don't shut the fuck up and let me work!" Marcus threatened darkly, and Baird, who did not like the idea of experiencing even more pain at this current moment in time, reluctantly did so._

_

* * *

_

"S-s-s-sore." Baird slurred, barely audible. Marcus spared him a just quick glance, before continuing with his work. Judging by the way the blonde was starting to shake, Marcus suspected that shock was started to kick in. Which, funnily enough, was not a good thing to happen right about now.

And he didn't want to have to listen to a Baird who was in shock bitching. He didn't know if he could take it.

Marcus went into overdrive, remembering age-old lectures: _Staunch the area where the blood is being lost from. _He dug around again, all the time swearing under his breath. This bullet was a real pain in the ass; it just didn't want to be found. But he kept going. And like they say, 'fortune favours the bold' for suddenly Marcus' fingers closed around a little metal object. He pulled, and eventually lying in his bloodstained hand was the bullet. A shadow of a smile covered his scarred face. Pressing a hand down firmly over the still-bleeding wound, he turned to the blonde.

"I got it." He rumbled in his deep tones, prompting Baird's eyes to flicker open and once again he seemed to have trouble focusing. Everything seemed blurry. And so goddamn _gray._ He winced slightly, feeling waves and waves of nausea and pain threaten him.

"S'good." He muttered, his eyes feeling unreasonably heavy and his throat unreasonably thick. Baird forced himself to focus on Marcus only…Only there seemed to be two of them now. And two Fenix's were two too many. Which one had talked to him? Baird had no idea. "S'too many." He heard himself saying, and was annoyed to hear how weak his voice sounded.

Marcus stared for a minute, trying to decipher whatever the hell Baird was attempting to say before deciding that yes, he really was going to have to hurry the hell up and patch this dipshit up. He allowed the bullet to drop to the ground and began to hastily pull out more bandages and press them on the wound. He could feel the weak and thread-like pulse at the base of Baird's neck, and pressed with more force than what was probably deemed necessary. To Marcus' own skin, the younger man's felt cold and clammy. He found himself swearing violently under his breath. Damnit, it was only a shot to the shoulder. You recovered from things like that. Marcus had seen men take injuries like that and be up and around within a week. Yet…There was no denying that Baird had lost a lot of blood. He only had to look at his hands and Baird's torn vest to see that.

"Damnit, Baird." He grumbled, pressing more bandages against the wound. It wasn't letting up, and Baird was still shaking. His eyes were rolling in the back of his head which prompted Marcus to give the blonde a shake. "Come on, Baird. Don't switch out the lights yet. I sure as hell ain't carryin' you around." Baird coughed, slowly shaking his head. His eyes closed once more.

"Switch out…Lights. S'too bright." He muttered, blinking widely. His tongue felt so heavy and thick in his mouth, and he was desperately thirsty. Like, desert-in-your-damn-mouth thirsty. He wondered if they were in a desert. There was no water after all. But it was cold, too cold. Deserts were warm. But cold at night. Was it night? Baird forced his eyes open again to peer around. It was all too damn gray to tell. And now everything was going all fuzzy. He looked up to see a lot of Marcuses staring grimly at him. The blonde snickered faintly before coughing again. "S-s-s-some bad…Dream. You're ever-everywhere." Marcus found himself rolling his eyes even as his concern upped a notch.

"Yeah. Sure I am." He said to humour the blonde, beginning to tie the bandages around the injured shoulder. He began to think quickly about what options he had open to him. Baird could walk, maybe. If Marcus was to support him then they could make it back to base and then get Baird to the medical tent. Then after looking at how…Helplessly weak Baird was now – something he still wasn't used to seeing - that plan just seemed to fly out of the window. Marcus shook his head with a frustrated sigh. That wouldn't work. He would need to think of something better. Hoping against hope, he pressed a finger to his earpiece again.

"Control? Do you read me?" He barked, discovering much to his chagrin that there was naught present but static once more. He swore furiously, cursing his bad luck. Now what could he possibly do? It was a long haul back to base, and it would be made harder and longer by the conditions and by one injured Baird.

"S'cold. S-s-sore. Black." Baird muttered, shuffling weakly around like a newborn kitten. Marcus found himself shaking his head in disbelief. He would never have expected to make that kind of comparison. He watched as the younger man fought to keep his eyes open, all the time wondering what he could do.

Baird meanwhile was having the time of his life. Not. His head was pounding, he felt in so much pain that he was tempted to just start screaming, and he was desperately cold. His shoulder felt strangely numb, but his brain was quick to inform him that that was due to blood loss. Hell, he hated being smart. Well, that was actually a lie, because he _liked_ being smart and seeing dumbasses having to ask him for help. And now his brain was telling him that he was rambling due to shock. Seriously. He hated being smart. He forced his eyes to open, feeling like paint was running down his face, trying to glue his eyelids shut. Marcus – or was that Marcuses? – was crouched down beside him again. Was that actual concern in those eyes? He really must be hallucinating, because there was no way in hell that Fenix would look at him like that. Baird smirked feebly as the older man watched.

"Hey…Mom." Baird muttered, blinking furiously to keep his eyes open. He shivered and fought the urge to curl up into a ball. His shoulder wouldn't thank him for that, he knew.

A faint and spidery smile formed on Marcus' face as Baird spoke, but he was too busy thinking about options he had. He knew time was of the essence; he had to make his mind up quickly. Suddenly he nodded and reached forward towards the blonde, gently wrapping an arm around the younger man's shoulders. He was careful not to aggravate the injury but the mechanic moaned anyway, looking at Marcus with a faded glare.

"What…Are you doing?" He coughed, but Marcus ignored the blonde's complaints, instead gently helping the blonde to his feet. "Fenix…What the…Hell…?" Baird's voice trickled away as Marcus steadied him. "Where are…We going?" It didn't escape Marcus' attention that Baird sounded more than a little afraid.

"Well. Seems I'm draggin' your sorry ass back after all." Marcus rumbled, watching the blonde carefully lest he start to sway and fall. "Do you think you could walk if I helped?" To Marcus' amusement the blonde looked like he was going into a sulk at the question. Even when hurt he was still a whiny bitch, apparently.

"I'm…Fine. S'good." He muttered, trying to pull away from the hold of the older man. Trying, that is, and failing. Marcus held on, ignoring the protestations being muttered. He shook his head. There was his question answered.

"Right. We'll take it easy. Anytime you need to take a break, we'll stop."

"You say…That to Anya too?" The blonde snickered weakly, and Marcus decided to let that one go. He would make the blonde pay some other time when he was fully conscious. He carefully took a step forward, keeping a tight grip on the younger man as he slowly stumbled forward. It wasn't a good plan – hell, it was a terrible one – but it was the only thing that Marcus could come up with. They couldn't sit around all night and into the morning, waiting for another patrol to come out and find them. The sooner they got back to base and got Baird to a doctor, the better. And hanging around sitting on their asses wasn't going to do that now, was it? Marcus shook his head, before taking another step forward, and another.

They 'walked' for a few minutes, Baird taking steps more and more hesitantly before eventually stopping. He was shaking violently, Marcus could feel it. But of course the moron had too much pride to consider sitting down in front of him. Marcus rolled his eyes.

"Baird, take five." He ordered. But the harshness of his words was slightly undermined by the way he gently steadied the younger man. Said younger man however attempted to glare again.

"You're…Not my…Fucking nanny…" He complained.

"Damn right I'm not. Your scrawny ass would be _glued _to the Naughty Step if I was." Marcus replied, totally deadpan. Baird scowled, his blue eyes peeking out from under half closed lids. Marcus decided to try another tack.

"Look, the sooner you sit down the sooner you can get back up again, right?" Baird just looked at him. Marcus didn't know what was better – a quiet Baird or a bitching one. Normally when he was hurt he would give off like hell to anyone who was nearby, so Marcus didn't know what to make of this silent Baird. It made him uneasy; made him wonder just how much pain the blonde was in.

"M'fine." The blonde muttered, determinedly sticking his chin out. He took a step forward, and then another before starting to sway. Marcus reached out and managed to grab a hold of him before he completely went down on his face. He told himself to count to ten and try and calm down. But he couldn't help it. The blonde was starting to annoy him again.

"Cut the crap, Baird!" He ordered, feeling frustrated. "I got that bullet out, I can easily shove it back in!" Hopeless threat he knew, but it did make him feel a tad better.

"You're such…An asshole… Fenix." The blonde muttered, trying to brush the older man away. He felt strangely light, as if he was walking on a cloud. Not that clouds on Sera were fluffy. Ever since Adam Fenix had burned the world, clouds were more like a bed of needles than feathers. Not that he had ever been on a cloud, anyway. He really needed to stop losing track of what he was thinking.

"Yeah, you do." Marcus said, looking faintly amused. Oh, so apparently he was running away with his mouth as well as his brain. Baird tried to concentrate, but it was _hard_. Every part of him seemed to be burning. It was as painful as hell and he really wanted to scream and go to sleep and not wake up. But not in front of Fenix. He tried again to brush the older man off and failed.

"Go…Away!" Oh, how his head was beginning to throb. But felt light too. "I want…To sleep!" He feebly lashed out at the older man, but Marcus remained unmoveable. Now he was sinking, his legs feeling weak. He stopped hitting the older man.

"Baird?" Marcus said, seeing that the blonde had suddenly halted in his punches. The blonde was alarmingly pale, and his eyes seemed to be rolling in his head. "Hell, Baird!" He started to lower the mechanic to the ground but -

"Storm." The blonde simply informed the concerned older man, before suddenly crashing to the ground.

Marcus swore violently, and began to move the limp figure into a more comfortable shape. He placed a finger on Baird's neck and once again found that his pulse was weak and thread-like. Baird's skin was clammy, and when Marcus checked the injured shoulder he discovered that the bandages were heavily bloodstained – it was bleeding again.

"Next time I go on patrol, you ain't coming with me, Baird." The older man muttered furiously to the still figure as he began to press the remaining bandages he had left to him on the bleeding wound. Marcus kept talking as he worked. "I mean it. Cole can go with you and watch you attempt to kill yourself." He spared the younger man a look, shaking his head slightly. "Damnit, Baird!"

* * *

**Okay, I lied. Apparently this will be a _three_ parter now. I do offer my sincere apologies, but personally I blame Baird and Marcus. Those guys just don't know what they're doing...**

**...Anyone else see that the last chapter and this one both ended with Baird falling? Balance issues much? :L**

**Okkies, thanks as always for reading and I hope you liked! xx**


End file.
